Sax Man Shorter Goes Solo

Wayne Shorter is the reluctant dragon of jazz, a man whose re-emergence onto the scene after more than a decade under wraps is, to say the least, eagerly anticipated.

A vastly influential figure since the early 1960s, when he starred with Art Blakey`s Jazz Messengers and then with Miles Davis, for the past 15 years Shorter has virtually disappeared within the atmospheric textures of Weather Report, the popular jazz-fusion group he co-leads with Shortercomposer- keyboardist Joe Zawinul.

But now, at 52, Shorter at last seems willing to do what many feel he should have been doing all along: Step forward and make the kind of sweeping musical statements that an artist of his talent, intellect and experience must surely have been storing up inside.

The initial evidence of Shorter`s return to the fray is Atlantis (Columbia), the first album he has made under his own name in 11 years.

But even though Atlantis marks a definite advance over recent Weather Report efforts (the gemlike details of the album`s nine Shorter compositions make most of Zawinul`s stuff sound simpleminded), Atlantis does strike an ominous note. While there are a few moments when Shorter`s solo horn pokes through the album`s densely multitracked sonic fabric, nowhere on Atlantis does he actually improvise.

Considering Shorter`s immense improvisational gifts, not to mention the central role improvisation has played in the career of every major jazz artist, that is a puzzling development, as though Walter Payton had announced that from now on he only would play defensive back.

Speaking from New York in the midst of a tour that has taken him from California to Europe and brings him to Fort Lauderdale`s Musicians Exchange this week, Shorter seemed pleased with the way Atlantis turned out. But in the next breath he insisted that the album`s gently wistful mood-painting is not the kind of music he is performing with his new quartet.

``The piano player, Tom Canning -- he was Al Jarreau`s musical director for a number of years, just one of those knowledgeable guys. Gary Willis on bass has been with Hubert Laws. He`s from North Texas State (University), the place where the Tower of Power guys came from. The drummer, Tom Brechtlein, was with Chick Corea for seven years. And as for what we`re doing in person, you`re going to hear some -- what do they call it? -- `chain saw murder.`

``Well, let me use a better analogy, a more positive one. Last night we were playing something, and it got so strong that I had an urge to get on the microphone and go, `Kong, Kong, Kong, Kong` -- you know, like this movie monster is coming toward you.``

Ah, yes, to those who latched onto his music back in the 1960s, ``chain saw murder`` and ``Kong, Kong, Kong Kong`` are just what one hopes to hear from Wayne Shorter.

During that period Shorter was one of the most ``dangerous`` players to ever pick up a horn, a man whose solos were described by various critics as ``quietly maniacal`` and ``clinically precise,`` full of ``abrupt changes of mood`` and ``wild satanic humor.``

In fact, the whole idea of the jazz solo -- the assumption, prevalent since the days of Louis Armstrong, that the improvising musician is making a spontaneous, personal statement -- is something that Shorter`s music has always held at arm`s length.

``When they play or paint or write or do anything of that sort,`` Shorter explained, ``a lot of people assume that what they`re doing at the moment, that emotional thing, is the nth degree of creativity. Because they believe that what they`re doing is a pure emotional expression, it`s supposed to be sacred or magical or mystical or whatever.

``Well, as far as I`m concerned, it is not. The act of creation is not magical or mystical or any of those things, even though it can be thought of that way and received that way.

``You wonder sometimes why millions and millions of people go for certain things. Well, when people cleave onto things, most of the time they do so because they`re in a life condition that makes it possible and necessary for them to do that. They want that magic.

``In music, for instance, I don`t care how much you like it; you`re going to see first and then you`re going to hear. When people see me onstage, I can tell that some of them are looking at me with a kind of wonder. The listening, if it does come, always comes after that.``

As elliptical as his playing, Shorter`s explanations often seem to require explanations themselves. But his need to push aside the idea of the heroically inspired soloist seems to have arisen from a belief that he himself lacks certain heroic traits, that sense of ego that drives so many artists to venture to and beyond the limit.